


Still Beating Loud and Clear

by Cutebutpsycho



Category: Sherlock (TV)
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-01-19
Updated: 2014-01-19
Packaged: 2018-01-09 06:03:37
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 493
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1142354
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Cutebutpsycho/pseuds/Cutebutpsycho
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>It’s an exquisite torture, Sherlock muses to himself one day as Molly brushes past him, arms filled with specimens. Ever since his return and the news of her engagement, he finds his thoughts roaming to a darker portion of his mind palace — the place that he thought he had deleted, but instead, the doors are groaning, threatening to burst. </p>
<p>But instead of bursting, these thoughts….horrible thoughts that distract him, come slithering out and covering his normal interactions with an oily, greasy, slick patina of desire and want.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Still Beating Loud and Clear

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Tygermama](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Tygermama/gifts).



> Based on the tumblr prompt: Sherlock/Molly, "Drumming Song" by Florence and the Machine, the morgue (with the candlestick... sorry couldn't resist)
> 
> I managed to get everything but the dammed candlestick.

_Heated breath against the neck, tongue sliding down her throat, nipping at that special, sweet spot, only to lick away the bead of sweat that is dripping down._

It’s an exquisite torture, Sherlock muses to himself one day as Molly brushes past him, arms filled with specimens. Ever since his return and the news of her engagement, he finds his thoughts roaming to a darker portion of his mind palace — the place that he thought he had deleted, but instead, the doors are groaning, threatening to burst. 

But instead of bursting, these thoughts….horrible thoughts that distract him, come slithering out and covering his normal interactions with an oily, greasy, slick patina of desire and want.

_He can picture pushing her up against a lab table, his body looming over hers as he pulls impatiently at the zip of her pants, threatening to tear them. Her hands are also at his zip and in their impatience, they don’t bother shedding their clothes. No, just pull them down far enough, shove the panties to the side and there it is — that wet, exquisite, hot and dirty slide into satisfaction._

He’s gong to burst one day, he knows it. Janine was an interesting education, a pleasant distraction, but he never felt the heat coil in his belly like the way it does when he’s around Molly Hooper. 

_Her hands are digging into his shoulders as she throws her head back and wails with each thrust. He can’t sense anything else, see anything else or smell anything else. Everything is her — the wet heat of her clenching around his prick, the pain of her nails through his shirt and even the high pitched whine as she climaxes, legs locked around his waist like a vise grip. Shortly afterward his orgasm hits and for once, sweet oblivion overtakes him. His mind is clear._

"You all right Sherlock?" Molly gently tugs on his sleeve.

Sherlock starts for a moment, then turns to her. “Yes, fine,” he stammers for a moment. “Do you have that eye I was looking for?”

She smiles brightly and hands him a container. “Enjoy,” she chirps.

He nods, before willing his erection away. He is Sherlock Holmes — it may be a challenge (one that requires the image of Mycroft jogging in spandex), but it will be done.

He thinks he’s fine before he looks over at her. Somewhere in the span of time, she’s pulled out a lollipop — cherry judging by the smell of it — and stuck it in her mouth.

She pulls it out with a sticky pop, her lips colored an artificial red. “Be good to that,” she calls out. “He was a rather nice man.” She pops the lollipop in her mouth again.

Sherlock gulps, then nods, before leaving.

_His hands are entwined in her hair as her mouth bobs down on his prick…_

Molly Hooper is going to be the death of him, Sherlock Holmes is now certain of that.


End file.
